


Golden Hour

by orphan_account



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck’s curls cus fuck I love me some curls, Domestic, Family Fluff, Fluff, I was feeling completely overwhelmed with the state of the world and couldn’t bear to write, M/M, This is just fluff idk what u want from me, emotions that weren’t deep-seated love and adoration cus fuck everything else yo, it’s legitimately just a conversation before dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24490393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It’s dinner-time in the Buckley-Diaz household.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 207





	Golden Hour

The brutal California heat had died down with the sun, making the air cool enough that Eddie had opened all the windows to catch the slight breeze. The last vestiges of the sunset diffused through the house and tinted everything golden. Van Morrison was playing softly from the kitchen, where Eddie was heating up pizza and putting a salad together, humming along. He was a little too young for Morrison, but his older sister was obsessed, so, by osmosis, he knew practically every word of every song. 

Down the hall, Chris was shrieking with laughter. He and Denny were playing some elaborate game involving every LEGO Chris owned, several sheets of coloring paper, and half the pillows from the couch. 

The timer went off, and Eddie slid the pizza out, then went to the living room to check on Buck. 

He’d come over straight off a 24-hr shift, not bothering to knock, just accosting Eddie in the kitchen by dropping his bags on the floor and throwing his full-body weight at him. He’d looked exhausted, had that haunted look in his eyes that told Eddie it was not an easy shift, but only shook his head when Eddie asked about it. So Buck had wrapped Chris up in a bear hug, taken a shower, and promptly passed out in front of Netflix. 

He was still on the couch, one bare leg thrown haphazardly over the edge, a blanket bunched around his shoulders and an arm thrown over his eyes. The show was still playing quietly. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a familiar t-shirt. Buck hadn’t bothered gelling down his hair after his shower, Eddie noticed. It was getting long, curling against his forehead and around his ears.

Eddie sat on the edge of the couch and gently shook Buck’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, Buck.”

Blue eyes opened halfway and blinked owlishly at Eddie. Buck groaned and stretched off the couch, moving so he was curled around Eddie instead. 

“Who are you?” He asked, muffled into Eddie’s side. “And why did you wake me up? I’m gonna call Athena. This is illegal.”

Eddie snorted and wound a golden curl around his fingers. 

“And tell her what?” He teased as Buck defiantly closed his eyes again. “That I woke you up for dinner?”

“Federal crime.” Buck mumbled. “Sending you to prison. I’m tired.”

It fell silent for a moment. Buck’s breathing even out again, and Eddie realized why he recognized the navy blue t-shirt stretched over Buck’s shoulders. 

“That’s my shirt,” he said, picking at the collar. 

“Yeah?” Buck said. “And what about it.” 

“Where’s your shirt?”

“In the laundry.” Buck said. 

“You’re a thief.” 

Buck held out his wrists, pressed together in the air, saying  _ cuff me, then,  _ and Eddie huffed a laugh and swatted his hands back down. 

“I’ll let you keep it. Even though you’re a thief and we need to eat dinner.”

“No. Too tired.” 

He tightened his hold around Eddie’s waist and shoved his face into his stomach, and Eddie felt a deep, intense feeling of fondness pass over him like a wave. 

“If you really wanna sleep, I’ll save you some food. Go to my room, yeah?” 

Buck unstuck himself a little and propped himself up on his elbow to wrinkle his nose at Eddie. 

“You’re too nice.” He said. 

Eddie shrugged. 

“I could be mean if you want.” 

Buck seemed to study him, then collapsed back into his side. 

“No. I like you just how you are.” 

“Good.” Eddie said. “I’m gonna set the table. Go get the boys?” 

Buck brightened visibly, as he always did with matters concerning Christopher, and rolled off the couch in record time. 

Eddie got up to get some plates for the table, smiling to himself as he heard peals of laughter and delighted shrieks from his son’s room, and Buck appeared in the doorway, hair a mess, in Eddie’s t-shirt, with Denny and Chris over each shoulder. 

Eddie paused for a moment, watched how he settled Chris into his chair and leaned his crutches against the wall, chattering with Denny about a movie they had watched. He watched as Buck reached down to fix Chris’ crooked glasses, hair glinting spun-golden in the dying daylight, barefoot and looking as at-home in Eddie’s kitchen as anything. 

He knew that after Hen swung by to pick up Denny, and after they spent an hour conspiring with her about Maddie’s baby shower, and after they tag-teamed Chris’ bedtime with the same ease they navigated a burning building- Eddie supervising washing up, Buck doing every silly voice in the book, that they’d sit on the couch, and watch a stupid TV show, as the sky darkened and the stars rose higher into the sky. He knew they wouldn’t talk much, save for dumb jokes and requests for more beer, but it wouldn’t feel silent. He knew they’d fall into a companionable position, legs tangled, back pressed to chests. It would just feel right. Like it always did, with Buck. 

And he felt that perhaps, this was as perfect as life got. 


End file.
